


Letters Never Sent

by zooeyscigar



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Epistolary, Multi, Mutual Pining, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:35:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23356294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zooeyscigar/pseuds/zooeyscigar
Summary: My 2019 SilverFlint Drabble of the Week challenge was once again to string all of them into one long(er) story.Each letter is 100 words exactly (or at least it was when I wrote it in gdocs) except the last one, which is a double drabble.The bolded words are the weekly prompted words for the DOW challenge. The bolded dates are the original publish dates as well as the dates of the DOW challenges (until the end when they diverge, then the one in parenthesis is the DOW challenge date). The publish dates also happen to match up with the approximate dates in the fic itself, so that's fun.oh and BTW, 'Letters Never Sent' is a bit of a misnomer...
Relationships: Captain Flint | James McGraw/John Silver, Captain Flint | James McGraw/Thomas Hamilton, Madi/John Silver
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	Letters Never Sent

**~~**

**September 9th**

Captain~

It’s not out of a misguided sense of **loyalty** that I write you, nor penitence, but as a way to guide me back to a self I once had — the person I once was, with you. Back when we were of one mind and anything was possible. 

Writing you now resembles searching on the dark seas for the beam of a **lighthouse** , a beacon to bring me to harbor, safely past shoals of regret I can’t seem to navigate alone. 

And yet...

I shouldn’t send this. Best to **squirrel** it away until I know my mind better.

~J.Silver

**~~**

**September 16th**

Silver~

What a terrible idea, writing you like this, taking **liberties** I know I shouldn’t, but I’m sick of **stewing** in regret — nay, anguish — at the way things were left. 

Not just between the two of us, but generally, with our plans for a brighter future. With Madi, for Christ’s sake.

God, what a mess. Please give her my love, if she’ll take it. You know, I meant to have a **brooch** made for her from some black pearls...

Enough. I shouldn’t attempt something so foolish. I don’t even know where you are, or if you’re with her.

Nevermind.

~J.Flint

~~

**September 23rd**

Captain~ 

I arose from bed, still in my **nightshirt** , with a need to put pen to paper. Now that I’m here, I’m at a loss. 

I’m **anchorless** without you, adrift in my own life. Madi refuses to forgive me for what I did to you — to her. We both despair that you might not be free, safe, content.

But I know I’ll never receive **news** from you. The thought tears at me from the inside, keeps me up at night. To never know you again, you who knew me so well. Better than I knew myself. 

I miss you.

~J.Silver

~~

**September 30th**

SIlver~

Why am I still writing as if I could send these thoughts to you? Yet here I am again. 

Life is going well. There are **pockets** of joy. But the leaden ball of **sadness** that sits in my stomach corrodes every happiness I’ve known these past few years. 

It’s not your fault, but it’s your doing. 

Much like the **banana** tree on Mrs Barlow’s property that was swarmed by wasps yearly. Harvestime was dangerous but worth it, even if you got stung. I’m hoping somehow this exercise is similar. A sweet outcome even at the risk of pain.

~J.Flint

~~

**October 7th**

Captain~

Once again, it’s late at night. It’s hardest at night to ignore the sadness. To ignore you.

I’ve just woken from dreaming of **cannon** fire, ships burning, **orders** shouted, enemies shooting, screams, smoke everywhere, noxious, **gaseous** fumes — my life in horrific danger and all I could think of was how to save you. My captain. My friend. My...

My penance.

Still, after all this time, I feel responsible for you — your life, your happiness. My God, if you’re not happy...

I ask myself what it was all for, and I can’t find an answer. 

Enough. Back to bed.

~J.Silver

~~

**October 14th**

SIlver~

Images I cannot banish from my mind:

  * Miranda’s corpse, stood up in her **coffin** for all to look upon
  * The incomprehension on Thomas’ face when they took him away - the wrinkles on the **bridge** of his nose
  * The angle of Gates’ neck after I broke it
  * The ruin that was your leg being tossed overboard
  * The **compassion** in Madi’s eyes when I spoke of you
  * Your face when you raised your gun to my chest
  * Your face that night in the cage
  * Your face when we harpooned our first shark
  * Your face



Every time I close my eyes.

~J.Flint

~~

**October 21st**

Captain~

Madi allowed me in her bed last night for the first time in a while. 

We curled up together under the blankets, stared into the mesmerizing **fireplace** , and talked quietly. 

I hung about her collarbone like a **necklace** , **thrilling** at the comfort her contact afforded me, stowing it away for future lonely nights. 

We spent much of the time before sleep talking of you. 

She, perceptive as ever, asked what hurt most about losing you. I couldn’t answer.

But I’ll tell you:

I’ll never know if you forgave me. If you ever could.

It will haunt me forever.

~J.Silver

**~~**

**October 28th**

SIlver~

Your **ghost** is in the room again tonight. 

Thomas, a **gentleman** , pretends not to notice I’m haunted. 

My love for him is so long-lasting it’s an integral part of me. You wouldn’t recognize me without it. I love him utterly.

So why fixate on you?

Is it simply that I haven’t asked your pardon for what I did? Or is my **crime** going along with your scheme, seduced by the promise of a peaceful retirement? 

It’s all I’ve ever wanted. 

Except now I think of you, standing by the sea, looking out to the horizon. And I ache.

~J.Flint

**~~**

**November 4th**

Captain~

**Sometimes** , very early, before I’m really awake, I let the creak of the ship and the rocking of my hammock soothe me. The soft sounds of the men still asleep, the sting of salty air in my mouth... 

And I **smile** at the promise of what I’ll encounter when I knock on your cabin door. 

Before the day’s underway with its **breakneck** speed, before you’ve even put on Captain Flint like a coat, I’ll get to talk privately with you — _you,_ James —

And then I wake up fully. Alone in my solid, stationary bed.

My chest hollowed out. 

~J.Silver

~~

**November 11th**

Silver~

Thomas sliced his shin on the plowshare today. He insisted it wasn’t serious, but I, heart in my mouth, tore his **bloody trousers** off to examine the wound. 

When my heartbeat finally slowed I wept with relief, hiding from his curious gaze in the shed. 

My explanation? I couldn’t fathom losing him again.

But tonight, alone, I’m willing to **bet** the echo of an injured left leg re-awakened the fear of losing you — something I never let surface when we were together — which threatens to drown me.

Have I lost you forever? 

Tell me that isn’t true.

Please.

~J.Flint

**~~**

**November 18th**

Captain~

Before the **kettle** had boiled this morning, Madi was telling me off. 

Not about the myriad ways in which I have failed her, but about my preoccupation with you. 

It’s a **talent** of hers, to strike at the heart of the issue with surety, eradicating the problem. I felt as though she’d found the single diseased tree in my **forest** and struck it with lightning. 

Now I am ablaze with purpose.

She’s right. I need to write and send you a real letter. One you will read. 

God help me to do it, though I’ve no idea how.

~J.Silver

~~

**November 25th**

Silver~

It breaks my heart, but I must go away.

My mind is a **hell** of my own devising which I will not inflict upon another person, especially not Thomas.

I shouldn’t stay in this **village** , trying to live a quiet life with a man who loves me dearly but cannot understand me - not when the one who does is out there somewhere.

Thomas and I have **danced** around the one-legged elephant in the room too long. It’s exhausting and doing real damage to him - my truest love.

Not that you are false, John, but...

I must go.

Yours,

J.Flint

~~

**December 2nd**

Captain~

Forgive me for my **failure** at writing you sooner, but I’ve had no way of knowing where you are or whether you want to hear from me. 

I can see your **catlike** grin now, as you get ready to remind me that I still don’t know the latter, but Randall taught me, when cooking **spaghetti** , the best way to tell if it’s done is to throw some against the wall and see if it sticks. 

So here I am, throwing myself against your wall, hoping that I’ll stick-

No, no this won’t do at all. 

Try again, you fool. 

~~

**December 9th**

Captain~

I’m writing with little to no **confidence** that you would care to hear from me, but I feel as though I must, nevertheless. 

As a boy I **trained** myself to focus solely on the present, believing that the past resembled the Doldrums: causing stagnation and difficult to escape. 

And yet. 

Since our parting, my mind, like a **moth** to flame, has consistently circled back to you — where you are, whether you’re safe, whether you’re with Lord Hamilton, if he’s everything you remembered, whether you’re happy...?

If you would, please end the suspense.

I long to hear from you.

~J.Silver

~~

**March 2nd (December 16th)**

Captain~

It’s **dusk** , so once again it’s time to bed down for the night. 

Three weeks into this journey and _now_ I break down and write you, though it’s clearly useless. 

I waited _two months_ before setting out,every day wondering what elaborate scheme fate must have **engineered** to keep you from writing back.

And today, nearly at my destination, it hit me like a **cuff** to the head: maybe you don’t think it worth your time to reply to me, even just to tell me how you are. 

Do I mean nothing to you?

No. Don’t answer that.

~J.Silver

~~

**March 3rd (December 23rd)**

Dearest James~

I know you prefer keeping communication to a minimum while you’re on your... retreat, but I believe it important to recount to you this incident:

Before dawn, the innkeeper knocked me up out of bed and deposited a **beer** -soaked man on our doorstep. He’d been transported in a **wheelbarrow** , being unsteady on his feet — foot, actually. 

I got only that his name was Something Silver and that he claimed **friendship** with you before he passed out. 

What do you propose I do with him?

Yours,

Thomas

~

TH~

Keep him safe. Don’t let him leave. I’m coming home.

~JMF

~~

**March 9th (December 30)**

Your Highness~

Excuse my presumption in writing you, but I feel it necessary under the circumstances: John is acting the fool.

He misses you terribly but his desire to not leave my side hasn’t **dwindled** , even after receiving your letter. 

This puts me in a bind: now that I have him, I’m loth to part with him. Yet he should be with you at this time, clearly. 

And, if I’m welcome, I wish to be there as well. However, I come with attachments. Namely, Lord Thomas Hamilton.

He’s a good man, Madi, and he longs to meet you. I predict you’ll get along famously, though John will likely regret introducing you.

Because, predictably, John’s **flirting** with the idea of bringing both of us to stay with you, for... as long as you’ll have us, really. I can’t promise much except Thomas and I doing our best to take care of all three of you.

Your servant,

J.Flint

~

Darling~

It’s a terrible idea, but I’ve never pretended to have any other kind. And I’ll wager that even the small **measure** of help Uncles James and Thomas can give will be necessary once the little one arrives. 

Please say yes,

Your John

~fin~


End file.
